[lit-ideas] Re: SUNDAY POEM
- From: John McCreery <mccreery@xxxxxxx>
- To: lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
- Date: Mon, 10 May 2004 11:28:10 +0900
A moving poem Mike. (Though I'm sure you want the last word to be
"changed" with a "d" --says John, who is also grammatically challenged
at times.)
John McCreery
On 2004/05/10, at 11:02, Mike Geary wrote:
> COMING OF AGE
>
> In winter the pond would freeze and if the freeze was hard
> my father and I would have to break it
> and carry water in buckets to the sheep.
> It was a bitter, arduous chore.
> I hated it with a purity
> colder than the icy air.
>
> My father had faith in fealty. "Come lambing time,"
> he'd say, "you'll know the good of it."
> He gave me the ewe of my choosing
> to close the deal. I was twelve, I trusted him.
>
> My ewe grew fat with promise.
> I met the mornings without effort.
> In late February we found them,
> nine of them, dead in a ditch,
> mine among them, the work of dogs.
>
> We burned them there where they lay.
> No words were said between us.
> Everything was understood.
> That night I dreamed I was running with the dogs.
> I knew the sweet the joy of the chase.
> When I woke the world had change.
>
> Mike Geary
>
>
>
>
>
>
>
> ------------------------------------------------------------------
> To change your Lit-Ideas settings (subscribe/unsub, vacation on/off,
> digest on/off), visit www.andreas.com/faq-lit-ideas.html
>
------------------------------------------------------------------
To change your Lit-Ideas settings (subscribe/unsub, vacation on/off,
digest on/off), visit www.andreas.com/faq-lit-ideas.html
Other related posts:
